


Bad Timing

by Tarlan



Category: Silver Wolf (1999)
Genre: Angst, Drama, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-09-04
Updated: 2006-09-04
Packaged: 2017-10-18 16:56:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/191112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tarlan/pseuds/Tarlan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Roy finds himself in the wrong place at the wrong time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bad Timing

Roy glanced out of the window and sighed. His job did not stop just because of a little rain though he did hate these cool, late spring mornings when the early mist had turned to a light but constant drizzle. The fine rain had a way of seeping under his so-called waterproofs, its cold fingers trickling down the back of his neck sending shudders along his spine. He shivered in morbid anticipation of what was to come, and reached across for his jacket, shrugging it over his uniform. He glanced at himself in the mirror before reaching for his hat, pursing his lips at the tired man who looked back at him. He really should have gone to bed at a more reasonable hour but the latest National Geographic had been full of the most interesting articles; it was well after two in the morning by the time he had read the issue from cover to cover.

The fine rain was being driven by a small breeze and Roy had not even made it as far as his vehicle before he felt the first of the cold rain against his spine. He clambered into the 4-by-4 and gunned the engine, deciding he would do a quick round today and spend the rest of the day in the dry office completing all the paperwork that tended to get pushed aside until days like these. As he drove along, the rain started to come down harder until it was drumming on the roof of the truck. The wipers were working overtime and Roy slowed the truck to a crawl as it became almost impossible to see more than a few feet in front of the bonnet. He chewed his lower lip as he considered how much rain had fallen over these passed few days, realizing there was a very real possibility that the track ahead had become unstable in places. He felt the front offside wheel spin in the ever deepening mud, and offered up a silent prayer of thanks for having a four-wheel drive vehicle. The other three wheels had held and he kept moving, deciding it might be better to turn around at the peak and head back while it was still possible. The last thing he wanted was to get himself trapped up here until the rain stopped.

It was a rumble that caught his attention and, at first, he thought it was just distant thunder but there was something about that sound that raised the short hairs at the back of his neck. He glanced sideways out of the window, looking up the sharp, tree-lined incline and his eyes widened in horror. Roy barely had time to mouth an expletive as the wall of mud slammed into the side of the truck pushing it over the edge of the trail as if it was merely a child's toy. He held on tight as the truck went down the mountain slope, bumping and sliding around trees. His head smacked into first one side window and then another as he was thrown like a ragdoll around the interior.

Suddenly, everything stopped moving.

Roy groaned out loud, his hand gingerly touching the side of his temple where an lump the size of a goose egg was already forming. He reached into the glove compartment and pulled out a handful of tissues, holding them against the cut on his eyebrow while he reached under the seat for the medikit. He tried to gaze at his face in the rear view mirror but his eyes refused to focus.

Damn! Probably a mild concussion.

Roy sighed. At least he was still conscious. Once he had applied a bandage to the cut and cleaned away the worst of the blood that had trickled down over his right eye and cheek, Roy glanced out of the passenger window... and swallowed hard.

The truck had come to rest against a large pine - and beyond it was nothing but a long, long drop to the valley floor. Roy carefully gathered up a few necessary items, crawled very slowly across to the other side of the truck and rolled down the driver's window. Ignoring the rain that still fell heavily, he threw the medikit, radio and what rescue equipment he could reach, out through the window and then prepared himself for the hardest part. Opening the door could easily shift the fine balance of the truck, sending it sliding around the pine and over the cliff edge. The alternative was to crawl through the open window but Roy knew that, despite the leanness of his frame, he was still a big man. The thought of going over that cliff while stuck half in, half out of that window did nothing to ease his fears. He decided he would have to open the door slowly, but be prepared to make a fast exit if it came to it.

Roy gripped the door release and started to push. Nothing.

"Shit!"

He poked his head through the window, oblivious to the rain that soaked him in seconds, and checked the door, uttering another expletive when he saw how mangled the bodywork had become from its ride down the slope. There was little of the truck that had not been dented and he realized it was probably a miracle that the window had opened at all. There was no other choice but to do the one thing he feared... he had to crawl out of the window.

Slowly, he removed the bulky jacket and pushed that through, then he took off his utility belt, not wanting any of the equipment hanging off it catching on the window frame; it would be a tight enough squeeze as it was. Once he was convinced that he was as ready as he was ever going to be, Roy crawled up onto the driver's seat and started to, carefully, squeeze his broad shoulders through the opening. He froze, his heart beating faster when the truck shifted, a long groan of metal against metal, and metal against wood, coming from the passenger side where the truck slid against the rough trunk of the pine.

"Come on, Roy. You can do this."

He braced his hands against the outside of the truck and levered himself forward until he was dangling out from the waist. His head was spinning but he fought against it as he sought purchase with his hands and feet, crying out with relief when the rest of his body flopped to the ground like a newborn fawn from its mother's womb. The sound of grinding metal turned to a screech, and Roy threw himself further up the slope as the truck slowly twisted sideways then tipped over the edge, its own weight increasing its momentum until all four wheels had lost touch with the earth. There was no sound of the truck hitting the rocks far below; no booming explosion, no crunching of twisting metal, no echo of his truck's death cries along the valley. Everything had been muffled by distance, and by the steadily falling rain.

Roy pushed himself onto his hands and knees, trying to scrub away some of the mud that caked him from head to toe. He slipped the waterproof over his rapidly cooling skin, grateful that it had its own hood for his hat had gone over with the truck. Roy strapped the utility belt back on and released the straps that turned the rescue pack into a backpack. He stowed the medikit inside then hauled on the backpack. He searched around and cussed loudly when he could find no sign of the radio, realizing it must have been sucked under all the mud. That meant he was on his own for at least the next two hours as no-one was expecting him to call in until then.

The rain was still coming down hard and that, accompanied by the dizziness, made seeing ahead almost impossible but Roy knew the only way was up, back to what remained of the road trail. He started to clamber upwards, his hands grasping shrubs and the roots of the trees for leverage. Many a time his feet slipped away from beneath him and he found himself hanging on for dear life, praying the vegetation he gripped so tightly would hold under his mud and waterlogged weight.

It took more than an hour for him to clamber up what had taken only minutes for the truck to descend but, with welcome relief, Roy finally reached a flat area of ground that could only have been part of the trail. He sat down, desperately wishing he could just close his eyes and fall into the sleep that beckoned to his weary body, but he knew that path led only to death.

With a few deep breaths, Roy pushed his battered and fatigued body to its feet and started following what remained of the track back down the mountain. There was a ranger station maybe five miles away and he knew there would be food, warm clothing and, just as important, a working radio, at that station.

Roy began the long trek back down the mountain, stopping frequently to pick himself up when his feet slid from beneath him on the slippery mud. The rain never let up for a moment and he knew the only thing keeping him warm was the fact that he *was* moving. It took him almost two hours and he did not even have the energy to grin in relief when he saw the station up ahead of him. Roy collapsed against the door and pushed it open, trailing water and mud through the room. He knew the most important task was to contact someone and let them know he was alive and in need of assistance.

"Station 2 to base. Over."

 _Roy? We were starting to worry about you. Over._

"Had a little accident. Lost the truck in a mud slide. I've just made it back to Station 2 but I'm gonna need a ride home. Over."

 _You okay? Over._

"Knocked around a bit. Must have a slight concussion, got a lump the size of a goose egg. Over."

 _I'll send Jeff out for you right away. He should reach you in twenty minutes. Over._

"Appreciate it. Over and out."

 _Take care, Roy. And try to stay awake. Over and out._

Roy placed the radio back onto the desk and leaned down, dropping his head into his arms. The next important task was to get the himself warm, and that meant stripping out of the wet and mud-caked clothes. He turned on the generator and shivered as warm air wafted through the heater, then he quickly stripped out of his ranger's uniform, dragging on the spare set of warm, baggy clothing left stashed at the station for just such an emergency. By the time he had managed this, Roy could hear the sound of an engine approaching. A car door slamming and heavy footsteps heralded Jeff's arrival, and Roy waited patiently, eyes glued to the door, wincing as the rain and cold air blew in as it opened.

"Jeez, Roy! You look a state."

"Gee, thanks."

"Where did ya leave the truck?"

"In a million pieces on the valley floor."

"Christ! Lucky you weren't in it. Come on. We can deal with the truck another time. Let's get you back to civilization... and a warm bath."

Jeff grinned then helped Roy shrug back into his jacket. Roy watched through tired, blurry eyes as the other ranger made a quick inspection of the station before turning off the generator and heater, glad he did not have to concentrate on anything any longer.

"Still raining hard so we'd best make a dash for the truck. You gonna be okay?"

Roy nodded, and regretted the action instantly as his head began to throb. To be truthful, he felt like death warmed over and his legs were like heavy blocks of ice, but the thought of that warm bath spurred him on. He sank, with relief, into the passenger seat and was more than grateful for the four wheels that carried him off the mountain.

****

Jeff took him straight over to the medical center and left him in their capable hands with a promise to come by later having several other calls to make before he could stop for a break. Roy had discovered, on the short ride, that he was not the only person - or animal - to get into trouble through all this rain.

"You taken up mud wrestling?"

"Hey, Clara. Feels more like I just gone ten rounds with Mike Tyson."

Dr Clara Evans snorted, then whistled as she helped remove his sodden T-shirt.

"Looks like it too."

Livid purple bruises stood out against the pale skin of his torso.

"Hmmm."

Roy winced, the breath hissing between his clenched teeth as she prodded the bruised area.

"Nothing broken, just bruises."

She tilted his head up and flashed a small light across his eyes.

"Slightly uneven, just a very mild concussion but I would suggest you stay in overnight so I can keep an eye on you."

"Rather I went home."

"And I rather you stayed."

Roy gave her a hard stare then smiled as he heard her soft sigh of acquiescence. He winced when she went back to examining the lump on his temple, but then she pulled back and looked him straight in the eye.

"One condition."

He grinned, bringing his hands up in a placating gesture, and watched as his smile chased away the stern look on her face.

"Clara, all I want is a warm bath and a comfortable bed."

"I can supply you with both right here."

"Thanks, but no thanks. What's that condition?"

"That your nephew stays at home with you tonight."

"Okay. Done."

A quick phone call brought Jeff back and they collected Jesse from school before driving back out to Roy's cabin.

This was the one thing that truly worried Roy. Jesse had only recently lost his father, Roy's older brother, to an accident in the Park and he was concerned how the boy might react on hearing how his uncle had nearly suffered a similar fate. He had his first inkling that all was not peachy when he heard Jesse behind him as he started filling the bath. The quietly spoken words unable to conceal the worry in his voice.

"I'd suggest you take a quick rinse to get the worst of that mud off first. Need any help?"

"Ah... no, thank you. I can manage, Jesse."

Roy felt his cheeks redden in embarrassment at the thought of being helped into the bath.

"Well, just yell if you need me."

Roy watched as Jesse chewed his lower lip thoughtfully.

"Look. I know you'd prefer a long soak by yourself, but Dr Evans was quite insistent on the phone. She said you have a concussion. I have to make sure you don't slip and fall, or drown in the bath." His smile brightened. "But don't worry, I'll listen in from outside the door."

Roy sighed, then smiled and nodded his head in thanks. It was not ideal but he realized it was the best he was going to get and he desperately needed to get this mud off him. He waited until Jesse had gone, noticing that he left the bathroom door slightly ajar, and quickly stripped off down to his boxers. He followed Jesse's advice and gave himself a rinse down at the washbowl, sluicing off the worst of the mud and wishing, not for the first time, that he had installed a shower. He snagged the shampoo from the shelf and lathered up some in his hands before spreading it over his mud-caked hair, trying to avoid the sore lump and the sutured cut over his eye.

"Eh... Jesse?"

The door flew open and Jesse powered in, coming to a halt quickly, his eyes wide open in concern.

"Could you help me rinse off this shampoo. I need one hand to keep this bandage dry, and another to hold the water jug... could use a third to scrub out the shampoo."

"Okay. But what if I pour the water? Then I won't have to worry about touching any sore spots."

"Deal."

Between them they managed to rinse out all the shampoo.

"Okay, I'll go back and wait outside."

"Thanks."

Moments later, Roy sighed deeply as his battered body slipped into the hot bath water. He felt the tension from the day slowing start to ebb away along with the remainder of the mud that had managed to seep into every crevice. Sitting up, he grabbed a bar of soap and made sure there was not a trace of mud left on his skin, then he sank back down into the slowly cooling water and let his thoughts float.

He sighed as he luxuriated in the sense of feeling safe, clean and warm, his eyes closing as the exhaustion took a firmer grip. The sensation of cool water closing over his face brought him spluttering back, but it was the feel of another person's hands on his arms that shocked him most - and the concerned face looking down at him.

"Yeah, I know. I fell asleep. Thanks. Reckon it's time to get out of this bath before I do drown."

The worry left the boy's eyes, and Jesse turned to grab a thick bath towel from the rack, leaving it within easy reach before moving back outside. Roy found a hot mug of his 'chocolate drink' natural substitute waiting for him when he finally came out of the bathroom, and next to it were a couple of painkillers. He downed the tablets quickly then sat down on the couch opposite Jesse, observing the way Jesse tried to look all nonchalant as he paged through Roy's latest copy of National Geographic.

"I'm not dead, Jesse."

The boy flung the magazine down and glared up at him, his eyes full of accusation before they started to fill with unshed tears.

"But you could have been."

"I know... and I'm sorry for putting you through this so soon after losing your Dad."

Jesse nodded his head, his eyes skittering away.

"Don't blame the Park. It was just a little bit of bad timing, being where I was when that mud decided to slide."

"Yeah."

Roy knew he had not put the boy's mind at ease, but what else could he say? That things happen? That danger was all around them whether driving up on the mountain or crossing the street in the town? He sighed, feeling his heavy eyelids starting to fall.

"I'm gonna turn in now... get some sleep. We'll talk about this later."

Jesse gave a wry smile before answering.

"It's okay, Uncle Roy. Just made me a little worried knowing you're up here alone after this weekend."

Roy grinned and stood up. He walked over to his bed and paused for a moment before climbing in.

"I'll be okay, you know... and your mother **needs** you. Anyway, you're always welcome back here any time. You know that."

"Yeah. I know that."

Roy closed his eyes and within moments, all thoughts of this day were swept away as he fell into a restful sleep, warm, clean, dry and comfortable in his own bed.

THE END


End file.
